Always and Forever
by K.H. Wright
Summary: England finally gets a date with America. Sequel to A Million and One Confessions
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I'm kinda hoping that if I write this author's note and stare at it long enough, I'll get an idea for what I'm going to write. I thought I knew, but apparently not. –dies- **

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England's fingers trembled as he buttoned his shirt. He wasn't sure how to feel. Inside of him, a flurry of emotions blew and he was sure the butterflies in his stomach were punching him. It was something he had waited for years to happen, and something he had started to think never would: his first date with America. It was going to be a simple, easy-going night; a movie date. England told himself that he needed to calm down, but it did nothing to quell the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. With a final look in the mirror, England left his room and descended the stairs to wait for America.

The ten minutes he waited seemed like hours. Finally, he heard his door bell ring, and he nearly sprinted to answer it. He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath.

"Relax," he reminded himself, then opened the door.

America was dressed casually, as he usually was, with his hands in his pockets and the faint smell of nice cologne coming from him. He looked nervous, if that was possible for him. Naturally though, he was trying to hide it.

"Yo, England! You ready?" he asked in an overly loud voice, a goofy smile plastered to his face. England had to smile. That was his America.

"Yes, just let me grab my jacket," he said, reaching up to the coat rack and grabbing his black jacket.

"Alright, let's get going," America exclaimed turning as England came up beside him. For a moment, he paused, a thoughtful look on his face and England was about to ask what was wrong, when America extended a hand to him. He felt his heart beat just a little faster, and he blushed as he took the other man's hand. It was warm, if not a little rough, and England couldn't help but notice America's pulse quicken just a bit.

"Uh, don't wanna miss the previews," America said, starting to walk. England smiled.

"No, wouldn't want to do that."

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**Okay, so this is way shorter than I wanted it to be, but I think it's okay for an intro. I really just want to get something posted because it's been almost two months since I wrote the prequel. So, please be nice; I swear the next chapters will be much longer. Thank you to the people who read ****A Million and One Confessions**** and are now reading this. I'm sorry for the wait!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, it's been a ridiculous amount of time since I updated this fic. Unfortunately, I had run into a snag. You see, I wrote a half a chapter, and it was pretty good, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized everything in it was happening too fast. So I'm saving that for the next chapter, and I'm writing this instead as the second chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review. I'll try and update a little more regularly, now that my midterms are about over.**

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The evening air was cool, yet somehow England found it was hard to breathe it in. He walked out from the movie theater, America beside him, somehow more uneasy than he had been before the date. The movie had been nothing special, an action movie, (because really, what had he expected out of America?) but the other man hadn't let go of his hand the entire time. It wasn't an unpleasant "uneasy;" but it was an emotion he couldn't put his finger on. Hope, maybe? England looked to the ground. Hope was dangerous.

"Huh? England, what's wrong?" America asked. The elder nation looked up to him and smiled.

"Nothing," he replied softly. America didn't seem to buy that, but he didn't ask any more questions on the matter. Instead, he changed the subject.

"So, tonight was nice," he said. England blushed a little, and nodded.

"Yes, it was," he responded. America was quiet for a moment.

"You know, I'm thinking of learning another language. It's tiring only being able to speak _American._"

"You speak English, you bloody git!" England exploded. America laughed.

"Now there's the England I know," he said, looking to the elder nation. England averted his eyes and grumbled.

"What was that?" America asked, a little nervous. He had said what he had to get a rise out of England, but he didn't want to spoil the night by making the island nation mad.

"I said: why do you always have to tease me? You know you only make me mad," he said grouchily.

"Because you're not acting like yourself. You're being all sweet and submissive…It's kinda creepy," America said. England's eyebrows knit together, and it struck the younger nation that he may have said the wrong thing.

"So what you're saying is you'd rather have me act like a contrary old lady?" There was a dare in England's voice, it said "Say yes, and I'll unleash every curse known to man on you." He was not amused by America's teasing.

"Yes, I would rather you act like yourself," America said. He wasn't good at picking up on hints. But before England could get mad, the comment hit him, and he began to laugh.

"What?" America asked, confused by the sudden change in mood.

"You _do_ realize, you just called me a contrary old lady," England responded, wiping tears from my eyes.

"Yeah, so? I've called you worse," replied the younger nation.

"I'll let you in on a secret, America. It's not the best idea to call your date an old lady if you want a second date," England teased. America smiled, but England could see the nervousness behind it.

"Guess I'm not too good at this sort of thing, huh?" he said with an attempt at flippancy. By this time, they had walked from the theater, all the way back to England's home, and the night had truly set in. Overhead, light from the stars twinkled down on them. England thought back to that wish he had made not too long ago. Though it hadn't completely come true, he had to appreciate where he was at now. The stars had a funny way of working things out in their own time.

"I don't think anybody truly is," England said back. He turned to America as they came up to the door.

"Well, thank you for a lovely night," he said, reluctantly releasing the other man's hand.

"So, do I still get that second date? I promise not to call you an old lady again," America joked, but once again, England saw real nervousness there.

"Of course you do, you idiot," he said smiling. Like he would ever turn America down.

"I'll call you then," America said, and lifted a hand in farewell. "Good night England."

"Good night, America."

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**Hm, this is shorter than I originally planned…Oh well. I'm not gonna bleed it to death for another couple hundred words. I hoped you liked it. Please leave a review; I promise it won't take me months to write the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:****Ugh. So I've learned that I should no longer write fanfictions at three in the morning. No good comes of it. I left out more than half the stuff I wanted to put in the last chapter. **

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The next day, America called England fairly early in the morning, asking if he wanted to spend the day at the park. England had to stop himself from laughing at the idea. A day strolling the park with the fast-paced American? It seemed silly. England accepted, though, only because he was afraid that America would lose his confidence if he told him that he was trying too hard. After hanging up the phone, England glanced outside. It was over-cast, but wasn't cold. A park date shouldn't be too bad, as long as they brought umbrellas, just in case.

While he waited for America to show up, he sat and tried reading a book. Unfortunately, the words just wouldn't meet his eyes. With annoyance, he shut his book and sprawled out on the couch. He still felt that uneasiness that he had labeled "hope" tugging at his heart. Hope, he had decided, was one of the worse emotions, fighting against his realistic mind and making him feel optimistic. Hope was a terrible, wonderful, absurd emotion. He was sick of it. He had to be prepared for the chance that America would never return his feelings in the same way. That thought made his stomach sick. He guessed that hope had its place; it was keeping him from falling into despair.

England was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of heavy rain hitting his roof. He sighed. So much for a day at the park, he thought. For a moment, he waited for the sound of his phone, for America to call and say he wasn't coming. So he was completely surprised when he heard a knock at the door.

"Did that idiot come all the way here in the rain?" he said to himself. When he opened the door, America rushed in, soaking wet.

"England!" he cried. "I was halfway to your house when it started raining and I didn't know what to do, so I ran here." England put a hand to his head.

"Why didn't you just turn around?" he asked. America crossed his arms.

"I told you, I didn't know what to do. It started raining so fast!"

"Welcome to the U.K." England muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, I'll go get you a towel." England left, then returned in a moment with a towel, throwing it over America's head.

"Thanks. I don't suppose I could borrow some clothes or something?" he asked, drying his hair.

"I don't think I have anything that will fit you," England responded with a surge of annoyance. Even after all these years, it still bothered him that America was taller than him. He sighed. "But I guess you can't stay in those wet clothes." He motioned for America to follow him, and walked down the halls to his room. He pulled a clean robe from his closet and told America to change in the bathroom.

While he waited for America, England wandered into the library. He pulled a book from the shelf and casually flipped through the pages, finding it to be one of the old fairy tale books he read when he was younger. In fact the last time he had read it was back when…

"Hey!" America exclaimed, coming into the library, dressed in England's robe. "I remember that book. You used to read it to me when I was little." England felt a wave of nostalgia come over him, then slowly it replaced itself with a deep sadness. He put the book back in its place on the shelf.

"Seems like it was forever ago, but I guess it hasn't been all that long," England said. "Kinda makes me miss old times." Beside him, America shifted uncomfortably.

"You can't really say you wish I was still your little brother," he finally said. England shook his head.

"No, I just miss the times when we were so close," he responded.

"We're close now," protested America quietly, moving a little closer to England. The older man chuckled.

"I know. It's just that since the…" he forced himself to say it, "the Revolution…I feel like there's been a wall between us." England was shocked when he felt himself be pulled into a tight hug. He looked up into America's blue eyes.

"See? There's nothing in between us," whispered the younger nation. He moved in, hesitating for a single second, and then pressed his lips to England's. The kiss was sweet and soft; England never wanted it to end. In the centuries he'd been in love with America, he never imagined that kissing him would've felt this good. But in a few moments the same thought seemed to strike both men at the same time; America was barely dressed. They broke apart, embarrassed.

"Um," America started," so the rain has stopped."

"Yeah, I guess it has."

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**Do I even need to say the ending was crap? xD; Oh well. Anyway, there should be maybe two more chapters. Something like that. Please leave a review. :)**


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